


Murder, Impending

by gwyllgi



Series: Herc/Raleigh Bingo Challenge [6]
Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-09
Updated: 2014-06-09
Packaged: 2018-02-03 23:37:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1759783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gwyllgi/pseuds/gwyllgi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Raleigh isn't sure he belongs on a Q & A panel, but he'll make the best of it—much to Herc's chagrin.  <i>"You owe me," Raleigh murmured as he and Herc took their seats.</i></p><p>Written for the Herc/Raleigh Bingo Challenge prompt: Ankle</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bingo Card

**Author's Note:**

> For lack of anywhere better to put it, the first chapter is my bingo card. Click on through to chapter 2 for the fic.


	2. Murder, Impending

"You owe me," Raleigh murmured as he and Herc took their seats. He sighed as he looked out over the sea of expectant faces stretching before them. "I expect dinner—somewhere nice, too, with cloth napkins and everything."

Herc shot a glance at him as a smile tugged at his lips. "I thought Mako owed you; it's her spot you're taking." He reached for the glass of water on the table before him and took a long drink, his gaze on the audience as well. "You could've said no."

"And leave you all alone? What kind of heartless bastard do you think I am?"

"It'll be over soon." Herc grinned again and reached to flick on his microphone, did the same to Raleigh's. He took another sip of water—something probably no one but Raleigh recognized as a nervous tic—and settled so straight in his chair that just looking at him made Raleigh's back hurt.

Raleigh half-listened as the panel commenced, nodded at his introduction and toyed with his water glass. Beside him, Herc fielded questions with a measured tone that made Raleigh want to tear him apart, absolutely wreck him. It must have shown in his expression, as, after a quick glance, Herc nudged his ankle. Raleigh hastily composed himself and fought the grin that threatened to appear.

A few questions came Raleigh's way and he answered them with what he hoped was something approaching Herc's ease; he'd never sat on a panel before, never really spoken before others, much less been presented as an expert—he was just a pilot who'd managed not to die. He wished—not for the first time—that Mako hadn't had a scheduling conflict that had resulted in her declining to attend the panel, but there was nothing for it. He was relieved when the questions were turned to other panel members, and Raleigh sat back slightly, fought the urge to check his watch.

When he surrendered and snuck a surreptitious glance, it was to find that it hadn't been even ten minutes, despite the fact that it felt like hours.

Herc's knee pressed against him, and Raleigh realized he'd been jiggling his leg. Raleigh lay his hand on Herc's knee, but Herc pulled away with another chiding glance as he leaned forward to answer another question.

As he listened to Herc speak, Raleigh had an idea.

Herc was going to _kill_ him, but it'd be _so_ worth it.

It was an easy thing to slide a foot free from his dress shoe. He flexed his toes, spread and curled them a few times, then made his first foray into opposing territory.

The only sign of surprise Herc gave as Raleigh's toes skimmed over his ankle was a minute pause in his response, almost imperceptible. He didn't so much as glance at Raleigh—a challenge, if Raleigh had ever seen one. Raleigh circled his toes around the jut of Herc's ankle bone, tickled his Achilles tendon, and teased above the line of his shoe. The flex of Herc's ankle under the play of Raleigh's foot was its own reward; it more than made up for the sharp look Herc gave Raleigh.

Another question was directed to Raleigh and he withdrew his foot in order to focus on the answer. His response generated more questions, which evolved into an extended exchange—enough to make Raleigh forget his mission, until warm toes brushed over his ankle. He suppressed a yelp, flushed abruptly and muttered something about a muscle spasm as he reached for his water glass. He shot Herc a look to find his expression unchanged, despite the fact that the man—the goddamned Marshal of the PPDC—was playing _footsie_ with him.

Raleigh had to clear his throat before he could continue. He hastened to wrap up the question, and was relieved when the audience moved on. He glanced at Herc again and found that, while Herc still refused to look at him, a smirk played at the corners of his mouth—something Raleigh had begun to learn meant a shitstorm of trouble.

It was _on_.

They waged silent war for the remainder of the panel, each taking turns in taunting the other—Raleigh flexed his foot around the back of Herc's ankle and rubbed while Herc spoke, and Herc curled his toes around Raleigh's ankle bone with a dexterity Raleigh hadn't expected, whenever Raleigh tried to collect his thoughts for another answer. It made it difficult to concentrate, but it was worth it to see the faint flush rising over the back of Herc's collar.

By the time the moderator closed the panel, Raleigh was keyed up, with newfound appreciation of his ankle as an erogenous zone. Beside him, Herc flicked off his mic, flicked off Raleigh's, and reached for his nearly-empty water glass. He drained it, then shot Raleigh a stern look.

Raleigh knew he should be apologetic, but his weak attempt at appearing apologetic gave way to force of his grin. "In my defense," he said, when Herc continuted to watch him him, "it did make the time fly by. I never realized you had monkey toes."

"Goddammit, Raleigh, I think you just forfeited dinner."

"I can live with that, if means we get to stay in." Raleigh's grin broadened under Herc's stare, refused to give way until Herc relented and shook his head with a sigh of what Raleigh hoped was fond exasperation. "We could go now."

"No." Herc ducked, no doubt to replace his shoe, before he stood and tugged his uniform into the sharp lines Raleigh appreciated so very much. "Get up—we have mingling to do."

Raleigh rose obediently, paused to stuff his foot back into his shoe, and straightened his own uniform. "Later, then—Monkey Toes."

"Raleigh," Herc began in a warning tone, and Raleigh wasted no time in making good his escape.

He'd been right—Herc _was_ going to kill him, and it _had_ been worth it. He made a mental note to find out if Herc made any particular noise when Raleigh licked the flex of _his_ ankle, tested the bony joint with his lips, or skimmed his fingers along his Achilles tendon.

With luck, he'd find out eventually; Herc would forgive him, and Raleigh would have the chance to satisfy his curiosity.

It was _so_ worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...I don't even know anymore...
> 
> Thanks again to [sorrowfulcheese](http://archiveofourown.org/users/sorrowfulcheese) for the super beta. Any lingering errors are mine, naturally.


End file.
